Haunted
by MariskaMania
Summary: Journalist and all around family woman Abigail Stevens is raped, but nothing is as easy as that for Abigail, her family or the SVU detectives. PLEASE REVIEW :


**A/N: Neither SVU or the characters belong to me. The story itself does, as do the characters that have been made up. This is a collaboration fanfiction with Brittana_Emaya – All ideas are original, please review constructively to help us improve our writing. If you don't have a fanfic account, please tweet either Kate, or myself MariskaMania **

The day had just begun for Stewart Stevens; the clean cut, six foot four man stood in his Italian hand made suit. His leather briefcase had sat on the table in this very court room many times, brimming with an easy confidence, only today, his confidence was shy. The thirty one year old lawyer had moved from LA with his wife and two children a few months ago, and already, his Law firm had taken off and become one of the most high profiled in New York. Derek Kline, his partner at the firm stood at his side today. All appointments had been cancelled and rearranged, today, both men awaited the judge and the defendant.

The defendant was led in to the court room in an orange jumpsuit and was cuffed at the feet and wrists. Zachary 'Zach' Davis wasn't used to treatment like this, he had a rap sheet longer than Stewart's arm. The twenty one year old had never been jailed, but thanks to a quick thinking judge, was denied any chance of bail. His mother sat behind him, already in tears. She had bought him a new suit to wear, but hadn't seen her son in almost three weeks to give it to him. Humiliated, Zach shot a disgusted, yet smug smile over at the prosecutors. Derek glared back, his professionalism breaking for only a minute, Stewart kept his eyes on the door that lead to the judge's chambers. What seemed like hours later, the judge appeared, his cold, wrinkled face and empty blue eyes scanned the courtroom, first landing on Zach, then heading over to Stewart and Derek.

After everyone had been sworn in, court proceedings began. The defence began with a droning opening statement.

"My client is an upstanding member of the community, not only is he a proud member of the Davis boating and social club, he takes a very active role in the building and organising of charities founded by his family. Many of you will have heard of the Davis youth clubs around New York, but I suspect only a few of you will know, if any, that Zach is the idea and the driving force behind them. My client is _not_ a gang member, nor did he take part in any crime such as the one the prosecution is going to try and lead you to believe. Zachary Davis is a good, honest American man, with dreams of improving the lives of our future generations. This charge is absurd, and I will help you to realise this with the evidence, the prosecution does not have." With that, Jeremy Blanch sat down.

The judge motioned for Stewart to stand and give his opening statement. Stewart walked with a confidence he didn't have, but somehow managed to pull it off.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, Zachary Davis may be the driving force behind youth projects and take part in various charitable events, but that doesn't change the fact, that he has been arrested forty eight times; on many occasions he has been arrested with a gang,"

"Objection! Your honour, there is no proof my client is in a gang, that is an assumption!"

"Sorry your honour, I will rephrase." Stewart took a deep breath and began speaking again. His crisp voice cut through the thick tension that had settled in the court room. "On many occasions, Zachary Davis has been arrested whilst in the company of many other youths for a variety of reasons. Today, the defendant is here on the charge of rape. I will prove to you how Zachary Davis planned the rape of Michelle Brooks, I will provide you the evidence and take you step by step through Mr Davis's actions that night." Stewart paused as he looked at the jurors, their faces all a little overwhelmed. "Ladies and gentlemen, I am sorry to make you aware, that my only witness, the victim of this violent crime passed away only two days after she was raped. Michelle lived and died without justice. Today I hope to get her that justice with your help."

After two hours of security footage being shown, back and forth arguments between the prosecution and defence, the judge called for a break. Stewart called his wife, Abigail; she was sat at her desk typing away at her latest report.

"Hello honey," Abigail stopped typing and leant back in her leather chair. Abigail had been working for the newspaper for eleven years, ever since she got an internship when she was eighteen. She had made her way respectively to the lead crime reporter. She pushed her wavy chocolate brown hair off her shoulder and smiled softly at her husband's voice. She looked at the photo that sat on her desk of her two children, Megan who was four, and Dylan, one. They were the perfect little family. "How's it going down there? I sent Liza to take notes, I'll be there as soon as I've finished writing up this report."

Stewart smiled to himself, "Are you okay to pick up the kids today?"

"I'm not sure sweetheart, I may have to call my mom. I'm covering your trial, then have to type it up and get it to the editor before tomorrows edition."

"Okay, well, give her a call, the judge has given us fifteen minutes."

"I'm sending this to him right now, I'll see you soon."

"I love you."

"I love you too." Abigail hung up the phone, pressed send and printed a hard copy of her report, then grabbed her jacket, her laptop and her dictation machine and walked the two blocks to the court.

Stewart met his wife on the grey steps of the court, he smiled, planting a small but loving kiss on her cheek. They walked in together, Abigail, like her husband took pride in her appearance; she had pulled her hair back and clipped it up, her green eyes locked on the doors in front of her. Abigail stood at five foot eight, she fit perfectly next to her tall, handsome husband. She straightened his tie, and ran her fingers through his short black hair. His melting brown eyes smiled at her as they walked back in to courtroom five.

The judge took his seat, the tension in the room could have been cut with a knife. There were six other reporters sitting on the designated bench with Abigail. She began typing as her husband kicked off proceedings once more. Liza sat next to her holding the dictation machine; together they had covered over one hundred crimes.

More evidence was thrown in to the mix, the defence trying to discredit it, the prosecution pushing through with a driving force. The fact Stewart had lost his only witness was a blow to the case, but with the backing of his partner, support of his wife and determination, he decided to continue on with the case.

At twelve midday, the court took another break for lunch. There was an uneasy unknowing with this case. For once, even Zach was worried about his future. Stewart, Abigail and Derek sat at a small table in a corner cafe. Conversation was about the case, and only the case. Stewart shared his worries whilst his wife tried to comfort him. It was no use, he by now normally had the confidence and knowing to shut the trial down. Alex Cabot had been watching the trial, she had taken a back seat, she too had tried to prosecute Zach, but he had been one of her few failures. She had taken an interest in this case, and had known Stewart for years. She made her way to the small cafe where Stewart often went for lunch during a trial. Spotting the three at a table, Alex ordered a coffee and a muffin and sat down with her friends.

"I thought I saw you!" Abigail said hugging her friend.

"You know me, always the quiet one." Alex joked. She turned her attention to Stewart, "It's a tough one, you feeling prepared?"

Stewart rubbed his forehead, "To be honest, I don't know. By now, I usually know where a trial is heading, but this, no idea."

Alex agreed silently; "Blanch is a nightmare. He's the family lawyer, sly, conniving and greedy. Shame is, he's a smart guy."

"He's a bastard!" Derek chirped up, "Smart ass prick that cuts corners to get results."

Court resumed at one, more theories, police testimonies, and DNA evidence was presented. By five, the jurors had gone off to make their decision. The trial, by orders of the judge had to be closed today. Three hours later, the jury had come back. The head juror stood up and announced to the court, that Zachary Davis, was not guilty.

Zach stood up and smirked at the defence, he surprisingly thanked the jurors. His smug grin sent anger through everyone, Michelle's parents broke down in tears. Alex shot a look at Abigail who was just as shocked as her husband was.

After a coffee and a rush through a mob of camera flashes, Stewart and Abigail parted. Abigail made her way back to work, she got back to her desk and played the recording of the dictation she had taken. She opened her laptop and read through her short hand notes, opened a new document and began typing.

It was one am before Abigail had written her crime report, Zach's day in court was now forever going to be memorialised in print, all thanks to Abigail Stevens. After printing it out, and emailing it to the editor, she put on her coat, pulled on her black leather gloves and her scarf. It wasn't a typical winter's night, snow had fallen and covered the ground with a fresh beauty.

Abigail walked down the stairs and into the underground parking lot, her heels clicked on the concrete, she became aware that she was no longer alone. Turning around, she jumped as a hooded figure stood behind her.

"Sorry miss, you don't happen to have the time do you?" the man spoke well, he sounded well educated, but had no right being in the parking lot.

Abigail felt a chill run down her spine, she nodded softly and removed her right glove to get to her left wrist to where her Rolex sat on her delicate wrist. The man rummaged in his pocket, before Abigail could speak a word, the man smothered her with a cloth doused in chloroform.

* * *

/

Abigail woke up, her vision was blurry, a sudden blast of cold struck the naked woman. She was laying in the snow, a tightness had restricted her leg; looking down Abigail saw a green bandana tied around her thigh. A shockwave of pain coursed from the reporters crotch, blood defiled the beautiful snow. Nothing but the ticking of the watch could be heard for miles; Abigail saw her bag, she crawled, her numb hands made it difficult to riffle through her bag, and even harder to dial the police.

* * *

/

Olivia had been briefed, she often read Abigail Stevens articles. In her opinion, Abigail wrote the facts, the possibilities, the good and the bad, but never interjected her own opinions; Olivia liked the woman, respected her at best.

Olivia left alone, she had been waiting for a cell phone location to be sent to her before getting in the car and driving. As she got out of the car thirty minutes later, the detective carried blankets, a change of clothes were in the back of the car.

Abigail forced a smile, "Detective Benson," she began.

"Olivia."

"Olivia," Abigail repeated as she let Olivia wrap her up, "I don't remember a thing. I haven't touched this," she said pointing at her thigh, "I do know one thing though, I've been raped."

Olivia nodded softly, she placed an arm around the woman and took her to the hospital. She held her hand throughout the examination, Abigail had woken up shortly after being dumped and hadn't suffered anything but a possible cold. The examination took three hours, Abigail's body was photographed, prodded and probed.

Olivia took her back to the one six to take her statement. Abigail remembered nothing but a moment of darkness where her eyes were in a limbo and her body fell in to the arms of a man that wasn't her husband.

* * *

/

Olivia sat at her desk, she hadn't slept for eighteen hours; feeling she had nothing to go on, she waited for Elliot.

"Elliot," Olivia said exhausted, "I need you, your help."

"What have you got for me Liv?"

"Nothing, that's the problem. Abigail doesn't remember anything. She said someone approached her in the underground parking lot and then woke up naked in the snow."

"She doesn't remember anything at all?"

"No, I'm going to head down to the paper, I was waiting for you actually. Road trip to get the security footage?"

"Sure." Elliot turned around on the balls of his feet and waited for Olivia to join his side.


End file.
